


To The Grave & Beyond

by GetasGirl_x



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Halloween, References to Depression, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetasGirl_x/pseuds/GetasGirl_x
Summary: Vegeta has been relentlessly tracking down a vampire coven that has been wreaking havoc across the land for the last few years. He grows weary in his hunt and yearns to return home to his family.Happy Halloween. Here is my submission for this years 'Halloweenie2020' hosted by Shenron's DungeonTRIGGER WARNINGS! Read at your own risk.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 17
Kudos: 30
Collections: Halloweenie 2020





	To The Grave & Beyond

The rain drummed mercilessly against the roof of the carriage, only adding to the rhythmic sounds of the horses hooves as they clopped against the cobbled road. Vegeta held open the curtain, peering out into the darkening skies as lightning struck in the distance, illuminating the clouds briefly as it continued its lone dance. 

Letting the curtain go, he allowed himself to sink comfortably into the padded seats as he reached for his pocket watch. One side held the time with his family’s crest in the background, while the other side held a picture of her and their children. It was a priceless gift from his beloved wife. His thumb idly swipes over their faces, committing every small detail to memory. He recalled Bulma's first reaction to the idea of photographs and their ability to capture a singular moment in time. He couldn’t help but think it was just another gimmick, but now as he peered down at their faces, it meant everything to him. 

Interrupting his thoughts before they took a dark turn, the carriage had come to an idle stop in front of a mansion, sitting on atop of a lonely hill. Vegeta took a moment to tuck his watch back into place and adjust his vest and coat before he opened the door to make his exit. Stepping down the carriage stairs, he quickly passed off a few coins to the coachman and let him know to return within an hours time. 

As he made his way towards the house, he welcomed the onslaught of rain as it saturated through his clothes, leaving them clinging to his skin. Scanning the area before him, he took in the monstrous structure in its entirety. The mansion dominated the land with its towering walls and pointed spires, looking as if they could touch the heavens themselves. A stone path leads up to the estate with nearly barren trees flanking either side. What leaves remain are now being whipped around angrily as the intensity of the wind continued to rise. The sound is almost deafening as it imitates the wailing cry of a banshee. 

As he approaches the threshold, he sees several policemen milling about as they comb over the area. Earlier in the day, he had received word that there was a breakthrough in an ongoing investigation that he had been working on, night and day. One of the officers guiding the door tipped his hat to Vegeta, recognizing him as one of the lead detectives. With a quick nod, he made his way through the grand doors and was instantly accosted with a foul stench, burnt flesh. 

“Sir, glad you could make it in this dreary weather.” Tien said with a brief nod in acknowledgement before continuing, “Follow me. As you can see, there was quite the altercation,” he added as he pointed to various areas that displayed furniture that had been torn apart. Curtains were ripped off their rods, no longer shrouding the living area in darkness. Paintings hung on odd angles, some displaying long claw marks through them, while others looked like flames had licked at their edges. Altercation was such a simple term for what had happened. This home was war-torn, completely devastated, and left for ruin. 

Vegeta noticed, on one of the couches a stake was driven right into the base cushion with charred remains surrounding it. Upon closer investigation, he could make out bone fragments mixed with hair and teeth. With his gloved hand he gathered some ashes and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it together before scenting it. 

“Vampires,” he stated.

“Correct. However, this is nothing like we’ve ever encountered. Dozens of _their_ remains are scattered throughout the house. They’re the predators, what could’ve taken them out? It makes no sense. Come look at this, tell me what you make of it,” Tien questioned as he made his way through the house, leading to a master bedroom that’s damage seemed to match every other room. 

As Vegeta walked around the master bedroom, he scrutinized every detail, going over every possible surface. From the west wall that had clearly been eaten away by flames to the shattered caskets that lay open. When he walked over to one, he pinched his slacks before bending down to peer inside one of the caskets. Another stake was driven into the center, near where a chest would lay. The same evidence was left before, but here laid a golden medallion with a ruby in the center, the very same medallion that had been seen around the neck of Lord Freiza. 

Vegeta’s hand fisted tightly around the medallion, squeezing until rivulets of blood gathered and began to trace his hand. His unadulterated hatred spread through him like wildfire, catapulting his mind into the darkest depths. This man, no, this creature, had laid waste to countless innocent lives with no second thought. They had been tracking down his coven for the better part of the last two years, from town to town. They had speculated for the last few months that Lord Frieza and his band of wretched creatures alike had been behind the heinous mutilations. The townspeople grew scared and finally, reports started to come in, all pointing to one being who repeatedly was mentioned. The description fit visually, but it was this medallion that was the final nail in the coffin. 

“Detective, it’s over,” Tien said as he laid his hand on Vegeta’s shoulder. 

Vegeta pivoted quickly, shaking off Tien’s hand in the process. A comforting touch had his inner emotions roiling in bitter disgust. Countless lives were lost, more and more added to the list as they gave chase across the country. Sure, this coven was now obliterated, but what about the next that would take its place? Relief was nowhere to be found, and final vengeance had slipped through his fingers, yet another reminder of his failure.

Standing up to full height, he intended to leave immediately. He needed the fresh air, he needed to finally go home. As he walked away he heard Tien say his final goodbye and to find peace. This caused Vegeta to grind his teeth, but he refused to stop. No he had to keep going. 

Just as he was about to leave, he saw it, a singular black rose that rested on an entry table. How had he missed it? 

For the last two years, at every scene that led to the death of a vampire, a single black rose was left behind. 

He delicately picked it up and brought it to his nose, inhaling its fragrance. Floral with a hint of apple and wine, it reminded him of Bulma. While their children played, she was always gardening, roses being her favourite. He tucked it into his coat, being careful of crushing its petals. Then he gave one final look around the house and took his leave.  
***

Vegeta entered his home nearly a week after the investigation had closed. He still couldn’t believe all that had transpired, but at last, he could finally come home to rest. He stood in the doorway and nothing but the creaking sound of the wood under his weight greeted him. 

Walking through his home, he scanned the decor his wife had chosen long ago. Blush tones mixed with golden accents garnished their living space. He briefly paused in front of the mantel to study the portrait of his loved ones. He remembered it had been a miracle containing their two rambunctious children to sit down long enough for a painting, but somehow Bulma wrangled them, taming them in an instant, just like she had with him.

Moving along, he reached the upstairs level and passed the children’s rooms, taking in the stock difference between the two. Trunks’ room had a single bed in it, pushed against the window so he could peer out during the night. He had always been fascinated by the stars and moon. His bed was surprisingly made, but there is where the organization died off because just below on his floor, toy guns and blocks were scattered everywhere. It looked like the boy truly inherited his mother's ability to leave a tornado behind wherever she went. Then there was Bulla, whose room was fit for royalty, with tones of pink splashed everywhere. On her bed, an army of dolls protected her pillows. He noted one had fallen off the bed, her favourite one. He padded over and picked it up, tucking it back into the blankets so she wouldn’t know the difference. It had to be perfect for his little princess.

Vegeta then walked back out and stopped off in the bathroom and stripped down to take a shower and wash away the grime and defeat that gripped him. He had to before going to see them. 

Once properly dressed again, Vegeta left their home and rounded the back area to where Bulma’s garden continued to blossom. Rose bushes encompassed the outer walls of their house, her favourite. He stepped up to a bush, bent down, and pulled out a small enclosed knife from his pocket. Carefully he cut at the stems until he had a hand full of black roses. He flicked the blade back, concealing it once again, and slipped it into his pocket before he started down a dirt path at the back of their property. 

While deep in thought, he looked up to see that he had stood before wrought-iron gates with two ivy laden stone pillars on each side. Together they formed an archway over the gates, with a cross in the middle, protecting the dead. But where was God when his family had lived? 

Nowhere. 

Grief struck him as he stood there, like a knife tearing through his chest. How many times did he wish he could switch places with them? Yet here he stood, alive and alone, tormented and slowly descending into lunacy with each passing day without them. Swallowing down his despair, he pushed past the gates and walked through the endless rows of tombstones that surrounded him, gathered like the sea of the dead. Some were new and others old. He couldn’t help but wonder how they came to their demise. Was it peaceful? Was it violent? Did their families feel this internal struggle with each breath that escaped their lungs, proving they were damned to walk this earth in solitude? 

Then he saw it, a marbled white mausoleum he had erected for them. It was partially hidden from view as it had a weeping willow looming over it, its branches sweeping over the top and framing the entrance. Swallowing deeply, his feet stumbled forward until his hand caught the frame of the door. Agony swept through him as he tried to center himself, but a little too late as his mind was already fogging over. On the wall next to the door, a lantern hung on a hook. Placing the roses down temporarily, he freed the lantern before he fumbled with a lighter in his vest pocket, and lit it. Now holding both items, Vegeta clenched his teeth and pushed forward, entering his family's final resting place.

Inside was a cold and damp hollow place, such a contrast to the warmth and colour his family had once injected into his life. With the lantern, he marched forward until he was face to face with a stone wall that was engraved with his family’s information. For a brief moment, he was transported into another time as if reading their names conjured up apparitions of them. He could hear Trunks and Bulla laughing wildly like they did when they gave chase to one another. His wife's voice echoed through his mind as she whispered her affections for him. 

He dropped the lantern as his memories overwhelmed him. Dropping to his knees, he clutched his chest and leaned his forehead against the cold stone, grunting in pain. He hadn’t even noticed the way the thorns were cutting into his fist as he clutched them. 

“Vegeta,” sang a honeyed voice, one he knew so well. 

He closed his eyes tightly and gave his head a shake as if to ward off any more ghosts from the past, even mumbling out loud. “You’re not real.” 

Then he felt a grip on his shoulder, one that was both delicate yet ice cold and firm. This snapped him out of his reverie. Even though the lantern had been dropped, it still cast a warm glow that bounced off the stone walls. Slowly he stood and turned around. For the first time in two years, Bulma stood in front of him. She was exactly as he remembered her and at the same time entirely different . Her body was still youthful and plump in appearance, her skin had always been like milk compared to his caramel hues, but now it was almost translucent, pale as the moonlight. He could make out faint veins that ran along her upper chest that wasn’t covered by the bodice of her dress. Wearing an all-black ensemble, she looked the part of a grieving widow, which he supposed she was. Lace fingerless gloves adorned each hand, and he noted her nails were more prominent and looked like that of a beast, ending in claws. Lace even covered her face, but he could make out the soft details still, but once where her eyes shone light sapphires, they now glowed an eerie red. Yet for the first time, he didn’t feel his heart wither, but it beat faster, wanting to rejoin with its soulmate once again.

Vegeta let loose the roses and staggered forward, closer to her. He prayed to whatever Gods were still listening that this was real. Deep down, he knew it had to be. He had felt her presence numerous times and would often smell her vanilla scent waft into the room during the night, as if she was right there with him, but when he went to investigate, he turned up empty-handed. Yet he clung to hope, his last thread of sanity, that he was not truly alone. 

Dropping to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her trim waist, drawing her closer as he buried his face into her stomach, feelings of relief washed through him along with misunderstanding and anger at her long awaited return. Mumbling into her body, he whispered her name, testing it on his lips, “Bulma.” Just hearing it said out loud again reopened the longing and hope he had sequestered deep inside. Then for a brief moment, resentment reared its ugly head, he had needed her, ”Why haven’t you come to me?” 

He felt her stiffen in his embrace, before trembling hands sifted through his hair, encouraging him to look up at her. “I couldn’t. Can’t you see? I’ve become the very monster that destroyed our family. I couldn’t risk hurting you,” she sighed, hoping he’d understand.

Pained sounds escaped his lips as his eyes welled with tears that soon began to stream down his face. Swiftly he stood and pushed the veil away so he could look at her face unobstructed once again. “I should’ve stopped them--”

“--How! How Vegeta, please tell me, my love. They attacked you first. You didn---”

“--I KNOW. Don’t you think I know that! I had to watch as they feasted upon our children, listening to their cries as they begged for me to save them. Yet I could not! Then you, they took enjoyment in drawing out your screams as they pinned you and held you in a way only a husband should. And yet, I could still not do anything. They took everything from me. I should have never taken the job. I got to close….now look,” he bellowed as his fists slammed into the stone wall on either side of her head. Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing before he leaned his forehead against hers. 

He felt her hands envelop his face as her thumbs shakingly wiped at his tears, sending chills racing down his spine from her cold touch. “I don’t mean to upset you. I’ve watched over you, you know. I see you got my message,” she nodded to the roses on the ground behind him. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

Nodding, he moved one of his hands into her hair, pulling her face into the nape of his neck, while the other wrapped around her back, drawing her close. “Please, reunite us,” he gritted between his teeth before placing a kiss against her jaw. 

Suddenly he was pushed back roughly, hitting the opposite wall. In bewilderment, he looked up and saw Bulma was pressing herself tightly against the wall. 

“You want this?” she said as she pointed to her chest, “No, you don’t know what you ask of me. Do you know how many innocents I have accidentally killed? How many times blood has called to me. It’s why I haven’t come to you. Please, do not ask that of me, anything but that,” she begged. 

He scrubbed his hands down his face in pained frustration as he grunted, “Bulma, I’m tired..and I can’t do this anymore. I need you, don’t you understand.” 

She bridged the gap between them and took his face between her hands again, “I am too. We’ve avenged our babies, but Vegeta, I miss them so much. Please help me. I’m not meant to be this,” she hissed and backed away quickly at an inhuman speed, clutching her stomach, “I can barely hold myself back from feeding on you. Please.” 

“FUCK….I want you to turn me! For us to be together in some way and you want me to end you? To kill my wife? The woman who had given me a family and pumped colour into my world, giving me a reason to live. Do you not see without you that everything is ordinary and I barely breathe,” he sputtered in grief as he spun around, looking away from her, trying to grasp the situation at hand. Truly, he knew becoming a creature of the night would only lead to hurting others. One look at her face, and he could see the pain she was in, both emotionally and physically, just trying to suppress her new desires. When they were younger and traded vows, he promised to protect her and yet he selfishly wanted to keep her alive, even if it was a half life, borrowed from others. Anger and grief were bubbling in his system like a poison he couldn’t free himself from. 

Arms wrapped around his waist, her small hands settling on his stomach as her face rested against his back. “I know I am asking you for too much, but I want to be free. I hurt Vegeta. I love you so much,” she whispered against him.

He swallowed down the vomit that was rushing up his throat. He needed to do this for her, even if it snapped the last string of sanity he had left in him. He owed her that much, and more than that, he loved her that much to grant her freedom. 

Turning in her arms, he returned the hold. “Let’s go home, it should be dark by now.” 

With her nodding in answer, he pushed back and took her hand to lead the way.

***

Once they were both inside their home, Vegeta gently led her to their room by her elbow. He let her go as he walked over to the nightstand on his side. Opening the drawer, he took out a wooden stake and closed it once again. He turned to her and then tilted his head to the bed, where he took the lead and sat down, then patted his lap. 

Bulma took his cue and crawled onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his once again. 

“I love you, Bulma, always, even in death. You’ve always had all of me. I will find you again in the next life. This isn’t goodbye,” he promised as his lips ghosted over hers. 

At this point her pupils were dilated, concealing most of the red iris. He knew time wasn’t on their side. With her last bit of strength, she pressed her lips against his own, releasing a small moan. He felt moisture run against their kiss and moved back to see she was crying, but her tears were small rivers of blood. 

He brought the stake to her chest, the pointed end pressing softly between her breasts. 

“Do you think I will be forgiven? Will I be allowed to see our children on the other side, if there’s one? Or will I be damned for what I’ve become? I’ve hurt people--”

He quickly kissed her again, silencing her pain. If only she knew what little of his heart was left was shattering hearing her contemplate if she would even be granted forgiveness. He would tear apart any God who would forsake his queen. 

“I promise I’ll find you,” he whispered.

“I love you Vegeta, always,” she whispered back, closing her eyes, waiting for freedom to take a hold of her.

He gathered all his internal strength and drove the stake into her chest cavity. Her scream filled the room all for but a second, before it became quiet once more. He watched as her body slowly turned into pieces of ash. First crumbling around the stake, then spreading quickly everywhere else, leaving her as a fragile shell. Her form then caved in on itself, leaving behind a pile of ash and wisps of her vibrant blue hair that he loved so much floating down.

A wretched sob filled the room, he wasn’t even aware it was himself until his whole body was wracked with searing despair, leaving him trembling uncontrollably. He was truly alone now. Without his family, his purpose in this life had become meaningless.

His mind was clouded by static once again, the side effect of a broken soul. He sat there with his wife’s remains in his lap. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? All time ceased to exist for him. 

Then an answer came to him, he may not have been able to protect them in this life, but he would ensure his wife’s soul was not damned. He'd follow her anywhere.

Reaching forward, he opened the table end drawer once more and took out his pocket pistol. He checked it over to ensure it was loaded. Once satisfied, he looked down at his lap and  
Delicately rubbed some of her hair together. 

“I’d follow you into the grave and beyond.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes Death can be a new beginning, a new chapter if you will. 
> 
> Thank you so much to those who continue to support my passion for creative writing. I hope you've enjoyed this story, even through the more painful twists. 
> 
> I want to give a very special shout out to [Ruthlesscupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruthlesscupcake/pseuds/Ruthlesscupcake) Thank you for being my beta and amazing sound board. Also, pushing me gently to not fear writing something with darker parts. 
> 
> Please consider looking at the collection "Halloweenie 2020" It contains other extraordinary stories from the DBZ community.
> 
> Happy Halloween to everybody, stay safe this year. 
> 
> Twitter: @GetasgirlX


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